Silent Hill Night Terror
by ShaD.23
Summary: When Denny awakens in Silent Hill with no memory save for being shot dead a year prior, he begins a quest to recover any memory he can as he wanders the many mazes of Silent Hill, meets familiar faces and slowly learns he and everyone else are much more than just a scary dream. Based of the Silent Hills face reveal trailer. Rated for gore, language and disturbing content.
1. Depression

_My name is Dennis Kirshner, but my friends call me Denny, or at least I think they do. You see, I can't remember anything... straight up amnesia. All I remember is my name, that I grew up in Silent Hill... and exactly one year ago today I was shot dead by the Brahms police department._

* * *

Denny's eyes shot open, the man finding himself lying in the middle of black asphalt. Climbing to his feet, he looked around, finding himself outside the familiar setting of the Silent Hill Lakeside Them Park. Stumbling just slightly, he felt a cold chill shoot through his body as he realized he couldn't remember how he got there or even what he had experienced prior to waking up.

"How much did I have to drink?" he asked aloud, although he felt no headache or dehydration, so he knew he clearly wasn't hungover. Just then, as he felt his ankles give way, catching himself on a nearby vendor cart, he heard the faint sound of growing sirens, approaching quickly. Shaking his head, he felt a vortex of jumbled words and images shoot through his head. A muscular man with an obscure head, a young pickpocket, a broken little girl, a woman speaking of dogma. It was driving him mad as these thought continued to swirl in his mind. He didn't even notice the sirens growing blaringly loud nor the screeching of tires behind him, or even the opening and closing of doors and shuffling feet of people surrounding him.

"Kirshner! You're under arrest, you child murdering fuck!" roared a voice from behind, Denny freezing as he let these words sink in. Child murder? Him? What was going on?

"You turn around now and put your hands on your head!" the voice roared, the clicking of pistol hammers echoing from behind him.

"You got the wrong guy." Denny breathed, shaking like a leaf as he leaned against the cart. "I don't know anything."

"I said turn around, dammit!" came the voice, Denny not daring to look behind him.

"It looks like he's reaching for something" another voice called as Denny's hand slipped, the man falling down against the cart.

"I'm not gonna tell you again, clown, get on the ground!" Denny felt his skin turn icy and his heart race. Who was he? What was he.

"ARRRRRRRRGH!" Denny roared, his ankles giving way as he turned to face the mass of uniformed officers and flashing lights of the parked cruisers. The moment he turned, however, he heard a deafening CRACK sound through the air and felt his body go numb as a round tore through his right shoulder. His entire body was lifted just slightly off the ground and he felt himself hang in the balance for what felt like a few minutes. He couldn't move, he couldn't think. He was an empty husk who only felt the numbing pain of a .50 caliber bullet tear a clean hole through his side.

After a brief second more, however, he felt his vision blur as the air was filled with exploding bullets shredding his body, falling limp on the black asphalt. With one eye open and finding it harder and harder to draw breath, Denny looked up to see the obscured uniformed officers closing in on him. It was the last thing he saw.


	2. Anxiety

_"You know what it's like when you have that one bad day that starts right when you wake up? You can't remember where you are, you can't remember what you're supposed to do today. You gotta just get everything together in a mad rush and figure yourself out all at the same time. Everyone has those days once in a while."_

* * *

Denny sat bolt upright, his heart pounding loudly in his chest, cold sweat beading his forehead as he brushed his shoulder-length hair from his eyes. Shaking like a leaf, he jerked his head all around, looking at the icy, foggy, empty small town streets. He recognized exactly where he was instantly.

"Silent Hill…" he breathed, a cloud of steam drifting from his mouth as he spoke. Looking himself over, he saw no trace of gunfire on his body. His heavy leather coat had no holes, his wore black jeans had no spots of blood. Giving a sigh of relief, he lay back down in the middle of the asphalt four-way. His head was spinning. That nightmare felt so real. He actually felt like he was being shot to death (although he had no idea what being shot actually felt like). Inhaling deeply, another sensation washed over him.

"What happened?" he asked aloud in bewilderment, realizing he couldn't remember much of anything. Stretching as he lay there in the black road, he wracked his mind as best he could, but he couldn't remember a thing. "Let's see… my name is Dennis Kirshner…" he said to himself "I grew up in Silent Hill…" he went on. "Damn, what else?" he sighed as snow began to drift silently from the cloudy grey sky.

"I should get up before I get run over." He groaned, giving one more stretch before climbing to his knees, looking around the quiet streets, raising an eyebrow as he saw a small few automobiles parked oddly here and there (some even in the middle of the street). "Did the Rapture happen or something?" he pondered aloud, walking toward the sidewalk. Reaching into his pockets, he didn't even feel a wallet. Feeling a slight twinge of fear shoot through him, he figured he had surely been robbed while unconscious. Turning back to the lifeless town, narrowing his eyes, he felt the urge to start running. The closest law enforcement was in the next town over in Brahmas. He had to find a telephone. If only he could remember where his house was.

"Denny Kirshner?" came a voice behind the man. Turning slowly, Denny saw a figure approaching him through the fog. "Denny Kirshner!" he heard the female voice call again.

"My name is Dennis, but…" he breathed, feeling a familiarity to the name Denny. Almost instinctively, Denny began to walk toward this person, only for her to raise a firearm to him.

"Whoa, lady!" Denny called, putting his hands up quickly. "I'm cool-"

"Save it, Denny." She said, becoming visible as she drew closer. She was quite young with long blond hair tied back in a ponytail, dressed in a heavy brown coat with a Brahms Police Department badge pinned on the chest. Still holding her gun to him, her eyes narrowed, she stopped just feet away from him, Denny able to hear her inhale deeply. "I'm Detective Cybil Bennett of the Brahms Police Department. You are under arrest for suspicion of abduction, kidnap and murder." She said, Denny's body going cold.

"Look, lady, I don't know what you're talking about-"

"Don't you remember me?" she said, not dropping her gun. Denny could only shake and sweat as he stared at the bead she had on his chest. "It's me, Cybil… you know me-"

"Lady, I don't remember anything. I don't know anything about anything except my name, I live here and I'm no killer." Denny breathed, stepping backward slowly.

"You… don't remember me?" she asked, dropping her gun slowly. Inhaling deeply, Denny turned tail and ran as fast as he could, hearing Cybil race after him. His mind was swimming with so many questions as he turned into an alley, jumping over garbage and debris as the two ran at full speed.

"Denny, don't make this harder than it has to be!" he heard Cybil call as she kept in tow with him. He had to get away. There was no way he was a murderer. They had to have had the wrong person. Racing further into the alley ways, Denny knocked over a trashcan as he raced into a fenced area with a wrought iron gate. Turning quickly, he slammed the gate shut, only for Cybil (who cleared the fallen garbage can) to pry it slightly open, the two struggling as they fought for control of the gate.

"You're only under suspicion, Denny." She growled as she fought to open it from her end.

"You've got the wrong guy!" Denny snapped, shoving the gate open, knocking Cybil backwards onto the ground, Denny slamming the gate shut, turning to see a discarded crowbar on the ground. Seizing it, he shoved it into the rusty gate hinges, damaging them and wedging it shut. Jumping back as she reached for him through the iron bars, Denny turned and saw the only way he could continue was a rusty stairway leading to the roof on the single-story tall building he found himself behind. Without so much as a glance back at the policewoman, Denny shot up the stairs and made his way across the rooftops toward the end of the city block. Coming to the last building, however, he saw no stairs down to the city streets. There had to be some way down, he thought. Just then, he jumped as he heard the echoing sound of gunfire, Cybil clearly having shot out the broken gate hinges. She'd be on him in no time. Thinking desperately, Denny raced to the edge on the building, looking down the one-story drop. His heart pounding, Denny seized the concrete edges of the building top and slowly lowered himself downward toward the sidewalk, reaching his feet around to see if he could find something to stand on, his shuddering breath the only sound he heard.

"Denny!" he heard Cybil call from a distance. Letting out a small scream of terror, Denny did the only thing he could think of and let go, landing painfully on his feet, a numbness shooting through his left ankle. Hobbling, feeling excruciating pain, Denny looked for somewhere to hide, well aware that he wouldn't be able to outrun the officer any further if she spotted him. Just then, he saw his answer. Shooting into the road, Denny hopped into the bed of a parked pickup truck and threw the tarp around him, doing his best to keep still, quiet, and ignore the pain shooting through his entire leg. After what felt like barely a second, he heard hurried footsteps, shaking as they came to a stop near him.

"I know you're here, Denny." Cybil said slowly. "If you come quietly, I'm willing to forget about the resisting arrest and assault charges." Shaking more and more violently, Denny held his mouth as tight as he could, terrified beyond thought. "I see you moving under that tarp, Denny." She said, Denny's eyes going wide. "Make it easy and come out yourself." he heard, a loud clicking filling the air. He couldn't jump her if she had just drawn her gun on him.

"Come out!" she snapped, Denny closing his eyes tight. Just then, he heard an unmistakable squawking sound.

"What the-" Cybil said slowly as Denny glanced though a small opening in his tarp, the sound continuing. Seeing her a short distance away with her back turned, Denny watched as she tore the tarp from another parked pickup truck, revealing a scrambling, clucking chicken she had jabbed with her collapsible baton. Exhaling in relief, Denny watched as she turned to face the rest of Silent Hill, the chicken flapping its wings as it hopped from the truck.

"I need to find him before someone else does." She said to herself, walking off down the road, collapsing her stick and slinging it to her side as she disappeared into the fog and flurries. Taking a moment to calm his nerves, Denny finally slid from under his tarp and back down onto the snowy street, quivering as his left ankle ached. Looking around the street he found himself on, he spotted a peculiar sight. Lying on the ground was a golf caddy with a long club inside it. Hobbling over toward the caddy, Denny seized the golf club and held it upside-down as a cane as he started through the town, his mind swimming with questions. What was going on? Why would he be under suspicion for murder? Who was the police officer who seemed to know him? Why couldn't he remember anything?

"Damn, I need a drink." Denny sighed to himself as he slumped down the street, looking up and down at the buildings he was passing. His memory must have been worse than he thought because he couldn't even remember where his house was. He didn't know if he was near or far from it. Shuddering as a cold front began to blow at him, Denny curled slightly in his heavy coat, the snow beginning to fall heavier. He had to find some way out of the bitter cold.

Just then, however, Denny heard something that made his body tremble from something other than the aching cold. The piercing sound of an air horn echoed over the town, Denny looking up to see the sky suddenly turn pitch black. He couldn't see anything. Turning this way and that, completely blind, Denny could hear what sounded like paint being peeled from a wall. Looking this way and that, hobbling further with his makeshift walking stick, he suddenly spotted a light in the distance. Hurrying as fast as his injury would allow him, Denny came to see a lamp lying on the ground, illuminating a stairway leading down between two buildings. Crouching down to pick it up (wincing as his ankle ached), Denny picked up the lamp, seeing it was made to be slung on the side of one's pants. Latching it onto a belt loop of his jeans, Denny looked nervously down the stairway. He didn't want to go down there in this darkness. Just as he turned to leave, however, he heard what sounded like someone scurrying down below. Turning, eyeing the black stairway, Denny leaned close to it, his shoulder-length hair falling just over his eyes.

"Anyone down there?" he called, only to be greeted by what sounded like the sobbing of a child. Was someone lost down there? He had to help. Hobbling down the steps, Denny looked at the illuminated walls and saw something most peculiar. They didn't look like the same walls he saw before everything went black. They looked as if they had been caught in a fire. The once red brick was now blackened and crumbled, but it also looked as if it had endured extensive water damage, like it the fire had been extinguished by a massive flood. The noxious smell of both burn and wet rot hung heavy as he descended lower and lower. He could even hear the sound of pouring water, as if a pipe had ruptured and was now pouring water onto the floor somewhere down here. Descending lower, hearing more sobbing (coming from a little girl, by the sound of it), Denny looked around the strange basement he was now in, twisting, rusted chain link fences making for miniscule walkways. Hobbling on, Denny glancing at the floor, his eyes grew wide as he saw what looked nastily like blood covering the floor everywhere.

"Please, tell me this is an April Fool's joke." Denny breathed, the crying growing louder and echoing more as he made his way through the small, makeshift fence corridors. Just as he rounded a bend, however, he stopped at a dead end, looking up slowly and jumping back with a scream as he saw something that almost made him faint. Something nasty and bloody was hung before him against the rusty link fence. Edging closer, holding his lamp up to it, he saw (horrified) that it was a man, or at least what was left of one. It was dressed in a torn, bloody red uniform of some kind, shackled by rusty barbed wire around its one wrist, completely missing its lower body, long disgusting tubes dangling from the massive hole left in its belly. Its other arm dangled at its side, its jaw was broken and unhinged with its tongue hanging like a flap of butchered meat and one eyeball was popped out and dangling onto its cheek. Just as Denny inched closer to get a look at a sewn nametag on the ragged uniform, he jumped back and gave a high pitched scream as the halved man gave a low moan and reached his unshackled arm weakly for Denny, his bloody and torn fingers quivering as he reached. As Denny stumbled back, he noticed something else. The crying child he heard echoing throughout the basement was gone, now replaced by the even louder sobbing of a grown man. His head spinning as he tried to hobble away with his golf club, Denny then heard yet another sound. Turning slowly, hearing a disgusting gagging and sputtering sound, Denny saw something on the floor approach him. His jaw dropped and his eyes grew wide as he saw what it was when it came close enough. Another halved man (although not a bloody and mangled mess like the hanged man), crawling on its blackened hands as it slowly looked up toward Denny, his face draining of color as he saw the disgusting creature's face. It's jaw quivered with rotted, jagged teeth and its eyes had no lids, revealing its nasty, shriveled round eyes. Frozen, Denny was jerked from his petrified stupor when the creature vomited violently on the floor, gagging and coughing as it crawled for him.

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" Denny shrieked, trying to make his way from the nasty thing, only for it to seize his ankle and bring him toppling to the stone ground. Turning, kicking it in the face with his free leg, he crawled back to his legs and began to savagely bludgeon its face with his golf club. Shaking and gasping for breath, Denny heard more gagging and vomiting coming from all around him (over the sound of the sobbing man and the groaning of the mutilated hangman). Turning, Denny saw a variable army of the hideous halved men scrambling for him from behind the link fence, gagging, coughing and vomiting on the floor and on one another. Screaming in terror, Denny raced as fast as he could back for the stairs as they began to tear and force their way through the fence corridor. Making his way up the steps, Denny slipped on the snow and fell into a telephone pole, hitting his head hard as he collapsed onto the ground, everything going black once more.

* * *

It was bitter cold and snowing again by the time Denny shook awake again. He felt like he had the worst hangover of all time, holding his throbbing head, feeling the painfully swollen lump. Shaking his head (which did more worse than good), Denny climbed to his feet and slowly regained his balance, his ankle surprisingly not nearly as bad as it was before. Stepping slowly down the street, Denny wondered if what had happened the night before was all just another bad dream.

"I really need a drink." Denny chuckled to himself as he looked around the snowy streets. Just then, he spotted a sign that brightened his mood. The Silent Hill town center was just a few blocks over. He could probably find some answers there as to what was going on. Just as he took up his golf club and started back down the road, however, he heard the ringing of a phone coming from somewhere close. Turning, he saw a nearby phone booth. Who would be calling a phone booth, he wondered. Stumbling slightly (his ankle still feeling somewhat achy), he opened the booth and seized the phone, holding it to his ear, not breathing a word.

"You know who I am, right?" Denny heard as the caller spoke with his own voice.


	3. Paranoia

_"You get home, you throw your shoes off, you just wanna take a seat, drink a beer, watch TV, whatever. Then BAM! You get hit with another problem. You're stuck scratching your head trying to figure out where your wallet is, where you dropped your phone or your keys. Sometimes it's literally one thing after another."_

* * *

Denny stood still as a statue and held the phone close, certain he heard his own voice coming from the receiver, snow still drifting slowly around the phone booth.

"I just said do you know who I am?" the stranger said again. Denny could only breathe silently. "Look, you need to be careful out there, Denny." This Doppelganger explained quickly. "Silent Hill isn't safe. You know that."

"I… I thought I grew up here." Denny stammered.

"Think, would you!?" the voice thundered, fuzzy bass clouding his voice. "You know what kind of place this is. After what happened last time, you need to keep your wits up, Denny."

"You mean my nightmare? Or the thing that happened last night?" Denny gasped, his eyes going wide. "Those were real?"

"Real as they could have been." The voice responded solemnly. "Look, I'll keep in touch, but don't be getting ballsy out there. I don't wanna have this conversation again. There's too much at stake." This only made Denny feel dizzy. Was he imagining this? He couldn't really be talking to himself. "Remember," the Doppelganger added sharply "there's nothing wrong with talking to yourself… it's when you answer, that you should be concerned." Denny felt as if everything were about to go black again as the receiver clicked. There was no way this could be real. Hanging the phone back up slowly, Denny began to stumble (from a mixture of his still hurting ankle and the bewildering conversation he just had) slowly through the snowy streets until he lost his footing and almost tripped, having stepped on something.

Looking at the ground, he saw what looked like a walkman radio, the low, quiet sound of static escaping the tiny speaker on it as it lay half buried in the snow. Crouching down to pick it up, Denny looked it over, finding it was in surprisingly good condition. Shrugging, he pocketed it and started back off down the road toward the Silent Hill town center, spotting a large house with illuminated windows only two blocks away, giving a sigh of relief as he felt this was the structure he was looking for. Collecting himself the best he could, Denny made his way for the large manor, spotting a large weathered sign that confirmed his suspicion. In plain, faded red paint was written "SILENT HILL TOWN CENTER", Denny taking a look at the building. It did look much more like an old mansion than a town center, though it likely was at one point. Silent Hill was a rather old town after all. It had a wrap around deck with fragmenting wooden posts holding up a balcony made of shriveled white wood, large windows with warped shutters that were in horrible disrepair. Giving another shudder as he stepped briskly up a small flight of steps for the twin doors (spotting faded chips of paint covering most every inch of the creaking deck), Denny reached for one of the icy brass doorknobs to see if the entrance was unlocked and turned it easily (though it did wobble loosely).

"Anyone home?" Denny called into the dimly lit foyer. Stepping inside, closing the doors to the frigid outside, Denny inhaled deeply, the town center quite warm. Looking around the interior, he could see the building was in disrepair inside as well. The walls were loosely covered in faded, peeling wallpaper, a few small, flickering lamps here and there throughout the foyer and stairwell. As Denny stepped further into the foyer, he looked around to see if a directory or map was posted, but he saw nothing, save for a few obscure pictures on the wall, dead brown plants and a large hanging lamp descending from the center of the ceiling of the foyer with a blackened bulb that clearly didn't work.

"Anyone home?" Denny repeated a little louder this time, walking slowly into a waiting room that looked quite similar to the foyer (except for containing a few moth-eaten armchairs and a smoking table).

"Who is it?" came a gruff and irritated sounding voice that almost made Denny jump. "C'mon, come in here!" the voice barked from a nearby room. Denny gave his head a shake, trying to brush the many strange happenings from his mind as he walked to see where this man was, the whole building dim throughout. As he walked behind a divider, he could hear the crackle of a fire, feeling the warmth of the building grow stronger as he saw a door with a noticeably brighter light shining from under it. Opening the door slowly, Denny saw what looked like a mixture of a private study and an archive. As he slowly entered, he saw a somewhat older man sitting at a large wooden desk, writing away speedily on a few sheets of paper. He wore a heavy brown leather trench coat and had a short flattop of graying ginger hair.

"Excuse me, sir?" Denny asked politely, looking around the study once more. "I'm looking for information on a townsperson." The man only continued scribbling away on his documents.

"I will need notarized proof of kinship between you and your associate before I divulge information of any townspersons." The man said slowly, not looking from his work once as he quickly started on another page.

"Well, I need information on myself, actually." Denny said, feeling somewhat foolish just saying that. At this, however, the man stopped working and turned in his seat to face Denny, his slightly weathered, goateed face turning from a look of serious concentration to a look of surprise.

"Kirshner?" the man breathed. Immediately, Denny sensed trouble and stepped back a pace or two.

"I don't want any trouble, sir," Denny stammered. "I'm only trying to-"

"I've no interest in what you've been accused of." The man said sharply, narrowing his eyes. "What do you want?" he barked, sounding the same as he did when Denny first entered the town center. Inhaling deeply, stepping back into the room, Denny tried to make himself look as if he hadn't been repeatedly mentally frazzled since he awoke the day prior.

"I'm… I've got a bit of amnesia and I just wanna go home." Denny explained. "I can't remember anything, so can you please help me out?" The man gave a solid stare at Denny that made him feel as though he were being X-rayed. This man really made him feel uncomfortable.

"I guess I can help." The man said as he rose from his desk and started to a nearby filing cabinet. "Just as long as you don't try to name me an accomplice if you're apprehended by the authorities." He said gruffly, Denny feeling as if this were a bit unfair.

"I'll be sure to do just that, Mr…"

"Wolf. Leonard Wolf." The older man said as he unlocked the drawer and slid it open and began to rummage inside. "Good to see you haven't lost your sense of humor, clown." He snapped as he skimmed through the vanilla envelopes, Denny beginning to grow frustrated with the man.

"What farm animal pissed on your face and woke you up this morning?" Denny said with a smirk, the man unable to suppress a chortle.

"Sorry." Leonard said in his gruff voice. "I've been in a fluster lately. Long story short," he began, seizing an envelope and closing the filing cabinet, locking it shut once more "some associates and I were in the midst of a function when an out-of-towner wandered in and cause things to go awry."

"Harry Mason?" Denny asked, Leonard raising an eyebrow at this.

"Who is Harry Mason?" he asked. Denny opened his mouth to explain the man he spoke of only for any description he might have had to escape him. Who was Harry Mason and why did Denny know that name?

"Guess it's someone I know." Denny said. "Maybe someone I remember." Leonard just shook his head and handed the envelope to him silently before returning to the filing cabinet once more, unlocking it and looking through it without making a sound. Denny just turned and opened his file, looking through the small few sheets of paper inside. There was very little. A birth certificate from the Silent Hill hospital citing his birth in 1937 (turning to see a calendar on the wall reading December 1976), an old, worn but colorful poster advertising Denny as a performing clown from the Silent Hill theme park (The Spectacular Denny the Clown, it read, his cheering face painted in a rainbow of colors and wearing an oddly formal, though still multi-colored outfit for a clown), and a few newspaper clippings that cited his disappearance.

"Nothing in the town records about a Harry Mason." Leonard said quietly, Denny turning to see him taking a second look through the filing cabinet. "Must be from out of town." He said, shaking his head as he finished his search, closing the drawer and turning to Denny. "Find what you're looking for?" he asked gruffly, Denny taking one last look through the envelope.

"Nothing about my home- wait, there it is." He said as he picked a land title deed from the vanilla envelope. It was somewhat smaller than the other pieces of paper and printed on a yellow, creased page, stating his house's location close by. "Thank you, Mr. Wolf-"

"Mr. Wolf was my father." Leonard said sharply, reaching out for Denny to return his file. "Just call me Leonard." Denny sighed and handed him the envelope and turned to leave. "Be sure to be careful out there."

"I will." Denny said flatly. "Try to smile more, happy boy." Denny smirked, getting yet another chortle out of Leonard as the older man took a seat once more at his desk.

"Frankly, I'm too busy, being both the record keeper and school superintendant for the town." Leonard huffed as he began to scrawl over his pages once again. "You try it, clown." Denny shook his head in amusement and strolled away through the town center, the falling snow visible through the windows once more. Stepping outside the warm building and back into the icy winter day, Denny gave a shudder in his heavy coat as he started off from the porch and down the street for his home just a few more blocks away.

As he passed the lifeless buildings and empty storefronts, however, Denny heard the scrambling sound of footsteps, turning quickly to see tiny prints in the light layer of snow. Quickly seizing his golf club and creeping slowly for the footprints, Denny rounded the corner and saw not a sort of monster as he did before, but a little girl instead, cowering in a small alley. Denny sighed as he slung his iron to his belt once more, grateful the memory of the assaulting demons still seemed to just be another bad dream.

"You can come out, little girl." Denny said, steam rising from his mouth in the frigid air. "I won't hurt you, I promise." Slowly, the little girl inched out from the alley, still shaking like a leaf. She was dressed in a dark blue, heavy, pretty winter coat with thick white mittens and heavy black boots, her platinum blond hair tied back in a bun and a pair of snug blue earmuffs on her head. As she came closer, Denny narrowed his eyes suspiciously as he saw she had a few cuts and scrapes on her face and her one eye looked like it had recently been blacked.

"Are you lost?" Denny asked, the little girl shaking her head silently. "What are you doing out here in this cold?" Denny asked comfortingly. "Are you playing in the snow?" Again, the girl shook her head, not making a peep. "What's your name, little girl?" Denny asked, the girl inching closer.

"My name is Claudia." She said slowly. "I'm looking for my friend Alessa." Denny nodded at this. "Do you know where she is, mister?" she asked innocently, Denny only shaking his head, Claudia frowning at this. "Nobody says anything, 'cept Mrs. Gillespie." Claudia said glumly. "She says Alessa had to do something important, an' that I couldn' see her anymore." Denny felt a mixture of confusion and pity flow through him as the little girl spoke. Why would a friend of a little girl (presumably also a little girl) have to go away to do something important and never be allowed to come back? It sounded way too fishy for him.

"Who is this Mrs. Gillespie?" Denny asked, wonder what woman would tell a little girl something like this.

"Mrs. Gillespie is Alessa's mommy." Claudia explained. "She's a real nice lady. She says God loves me an' one day will take us all to heaven if we love Him." She said smiling. Denny just stood there listening to the little girl talk. "I always ask her, though, why can't God take everybody to heaven? Why can't He take everyone who doesn't know him? I think God would be a lot nicer if he took everyone to heaven, not jus' us." She said, Denny amazed such a little child could be so deep and insightful. "She says it's something I'll understand when I get bigger, but I dunno… an' my daddy gets real mad when I ask him about it… my daddy's a mean man." she said glumly, kicking at the mounding snow. Denny just stared at this.

"Is he the one who hurt you, Claudia?" he asked, Claudia jerking her face up to him. "Like all those marks on your face?" At this, Claudia gasped and quickly shot off into the foggy streets, Denny watching silently as she hurried off into the snowy afternoon. He wasn't sure if he should call her name or try to chase after her. Silent Hill was becoming a stranger and stranger town with every passing moment, it seemed, yet it oddly didn't bother Denny as much as he thought it should. Maybe this was what he was used to in this town. Shaking his head of snowflakes (but unable to shake the thoughts of the girl Claudia from his mind), Denny started off once more for his home. Rounding another corner on the deserted streets, he saw a small, lonely home with a large yard. The lawn was overgrown and full of brown grass that stuck up high through the snow and the warping wood covering the outside of the house with a few spots of chipped, peeling paint. He had reached the house his file said he lived at. He was home, it seemed.

"Well, look whose back." came a low voice behind Denny, sending him twirling around. Behind him was an elderly black man wearing a heavy winter coat with a postal service patch sewn into the chest, a warm smile on his face. "Denny Kirshner, it's been too long." He said in a kindly tone, handing Denny a small package from his postal bag.

"You know me, mister?" Denny asked in bewilderment, taking the package from the man as he nodded. "Sorry, I've got a bit of amnesia." He said quickly.

"Amnesia? That's a shame." The postman said tutting. "I hope it isn't too bad-"

"Don't worry." Denny said quickly. "It doesn't bother me that much… if something is important, I think I'll remember it soon enough." He said, getting another smile from the postman.

"That's right, Denny," he said with a small laugh "gotta keep positive." Giving a nod, he started down the road once more. "Well, gotta get back to these deliveries, Denny." The man said, Denny turning back to face his house. "I hope you get your memory back and I hope you get to go home soon, too." He added, Denny's head jerking upwards as he said this.

"Wait, this isn't my house?" Denny asked as he turned quickly, only to see there was no trace of the postman anywhere. There weren't even footprints in the snow. Feeling a cold chill run down his spine, Denny started for the door to this house that was apparently his, tearing open the small package that had been given to him. As he came to the porch, he froze when he saw what was inside the box. It was an ordinary house key. Shaking with fear, stepping up on the porch and toward the door, Denny slid the key slowly into the lock and opened the door, shuddering as it creaked loudly. This was all getting to be too much.

The moment he stepped inside, however, before Denny even had a moment to look around this house, he heard it again. The sound of a piercing air horn. Giving a small scream as he heard the door slam behind him, Denny turned and quickly illuminated the lantern on his belt, staring in terror as he saw the door and wall decay, shreds of material peeling upwards and drifting into the sky as if they were strips of tape or paint being peeled away, revealing the charred frame of the house with bits of plaster and wood clinging to the house in disarray. Shaking as the disgusting stench of wet rot and burn filled his lungs again, Denny heard his radio begin to buzz loudly, emitting high-pitched squeals and loud distorted white noise. His head spinning, Denny heard the sound of heavy footsteps around him. Snatching up his golf club again, Denny looked here and there to see what could possibly be coming for him. The moment he heard a low moan, Denny turned quickly, spotting a sight that almost made him faint from shock. A gargantuan figure was stumbling toward him, wrapped in a white sheet like a mummy. As the behemoth approached Denny closer, he saw this thing was in the shape of a man, bundled under thick white sheets like a straightjacket and bound by thick leather straps to a hospital stretched, doubled over by the weight of the stretcher. His jaw open and his eyes wide, Denny roared out in terror as he swung his club into the belly of the stumbling figure, causing it to topple over, grunting and moaning as it struggled to rise to its feet. As Denny began to viciously bludgeon it with his club, he felt a heavy blow strike his side, sending him painfully into the side of a rusty pipe in the crumbled wall. Turning, he saw the first stretcher rise from the ground as another one came up beside it, his radio still wailing with incoherent static. Cold fear washed over Denny. What was happening here? Looking around the decimated house, Denny saw another rusted pipe sticking jagged from the open wall. Hurrying over and seizing it, Denny tore at it with all his might, seeing the two figures approaching slowly, groaning and panting as they made their way to him. Finally, with a breath, Denny tore the three-foot long pipe from the wall, swinging with all his might at the face of the first stretcher monster, knocking it to the floor. Inhaling deeply, Denny turned to the second and shoved the pointed end into the center of the stretcher, the figure gagging and sputtering as wet red spots slowly appeared at both where the pipe was thrust and the mouth of the bound figure. Kicking the stretcher monster down, the pipe sliding free, Denny felt himself fall forward to the ground as another stretcher attacked him from behind. Scrambling to his knees, he was bludgeoned a second time by the beast, feeling his shoulder starting to go numb from the crushing blow. Turning, he was helpless as the creature shoved its large foot on his throat, choking him as it held him to the floor. Struggling to get free, Denny kicked his legs helplessly and fought with one arm to free himself while he searched with his other arm for his fallen pipe. As his hand finally brushed by the rusty pipe (his face turning blue from suffocation), Denny seized it and shoved the jagged point into the face of his attacker, coughing and wheezing as its foot slid from his neck, his radio going silent.

Climbing to his feet, Denny looking around as he swayed lightheaded on the spot, he saw the three dead straightjacket monsters lying motionless.

"Good riddance." Denny groaned, hobbling away, achy from the blows they made on him. As he rounded the corner of the burned wreck of a house, however, he got the feeling he wasn't alone. There was still no noise coming from his radio, but he felt like something was there. Turning slowly, he gasped loudly and stumbled backwards against the wall, shaking violently as the horrific image stood before him.

"Pyramid Head?" Denny whimpered, not blinking once as he saw the muscular figure standing over him, dressed in only a bloody butchers smock, a gargantuan and rusty oblong pyramid casing around his head. Denny didn't say another word as the figure stood there silently, the disgusting smelling house so quiet one could hear a pin drop. The only sound was Denny's quiet, shaky breathing. He didn't dare run or try to fight. He'd never stand a chance against a creature like this. As he was certain he was about to faint, Denny's easy grew wider and he shook even more violently as the figure approached him quietly, Denny's quiet radio falling from his side. As it leaned closer, its metal cover inches from his face, Denny heard it utter one word in a deep, slow voice: "Innocent."

Shaking as it turned and started off, Denny still wasn't sure he could move, the figure stepping slowly through the empty doorframe and into the black night. Inhaling deeply, Denny climbed slowly to his feet, his heart still pounding and body still shaking. Just then, he jumped as he heard the unmistakable ring of a phone coming from the next room. Stepping over the fallen stretchers and through another ruined doorway, Denny saw a crackled, old telephone on the wall, a blackened, twisted and kinked chord dangling from it. Shuddering, scowling, Denny took the receiver from the wall and held it to his ear.

"Well, that wasn't supposed to happen, now was it?" he heard his own voice speak from the other end of the line.


End file.
